Silence
by tomatohunter
Summary: They all have problems, and that's because it's too loud. So they remain silent, make silence and bring silence wherever they go. Rated T for minor (?) swearing and mentions of abuse. Mortal AU.
1. Prolouge

**Disclaimer: I don't own PJO. I, however, do own this weird storyline.**

It was too white. Too clean. In every direction he turned to, he was faced with a blank wall. No colours, nothing. Just white. The strong smell of sterilizer was strong enough to make him gag. Nurses in white uniforms bustled about with various strange medicines in their hands. Visitors were holding white flowers as they walked about in confusion, trying to find their way around this maze. Even the soldiers or prisoners of this place were clad in white as they moved down the corridors in wheelchairs and other contraptions. It made him want to find a bucket to throw up in. The change in scenery was nauseating. That, and the realization of what just happened. He wasn't crying, surprisingly. Why did he, when the sky was already doing so for him, letting its tears run down the clear, clean glass windows? Mourning was not the useless and meaningless tears. It was about remembering the pain. And the hole of absence that left a dull ache in his chest was already more than he could bear.

"Would you like to say goodbye? She can still hear, you know," a nurse smiled. Her entire face was coated with so much make-up, he was pretty sure her plastic smile was permanently stuck in that position. _Of course she can,_ he thought bitterly. _Mom will hear_ everything _no matter what._ Nodding wordlessly, he reached out and let his small, slender hand rest on her large, calloused one. "Mom," he whispered. The heart monitors beeped once, and stopped. It was almost as though she had been waiting for him to say that one more time before she left.

The room was silent, but the whispers in his head rose to a roar. It was all his fault. All of it. Maybe it was better if he said nothing. He was a curse, after all. He ought to remain silent.

* * *

The small, smooth stone fell into the water with a small splash. The pale green leaves rustled along with what little wind there was. Every tiny sound was amplified and pounded in his head. He remembered how they would sit by the very same pond and have a mini competition on who could hear the most sounds. He would always win. The ironic thing about this was that the deaf was the one who heard more.

His small, delicate fingers reached behind his ears and adjusted the knob in his hearing aids. Soft footfalls could be heard, gradually growing louder. He spun around and their eyes met. "Hey Tyson." His voice was soft and gentle. As it always was when talking to him. "You found your way."

The boy, now dubbed as Tyson, nodded enthusiastically. "Found my way," he echoed. He paused for a moment and added, "Percy. Brother." A proud smile worked its way up the older boy's face.

"That's right." Percy's arm was now wrapped around the shoulders of his younger brother. "You remembered."

He fingered with his hearing aids. And then there was silence.

* * *

It was clean and orderly. The plants on the balcony were neatly pruned. The cream coloured walls showed no mark. On the outside, it was perfect. On the inside, not so much.

"Stand up straight!" she barked. The girl jumped up and stood up tall, feet aligned, back straightened. She was the epitome of perfect. Dark hair was braided neatly and fell just at the centre of her back, not a strand out of place. Her dress covered her knees and her shoes were shining, gleaming. But her eyes were different. Broken, empty, hollow, angry, fearful. It told of so much pain and despair she could hardly take it anymore. She felt like her house—neat on the outside, hopeless and messed up on the inside. The girl was grateful that her was not in such a bad mood today. She was usually worse. Maybe because she didn't drink too heavily the previous night.

"I see you're still a slob," the woman sniffed. "Tidy up the mess! Now!" she gestured to the spotless room wildly. _I take that back_ , the girl thought. _She is_ definitely _drunk_. "I'll be back before midnight! And I don't want to see this mess." The front door slammed and she slid to the ground helplessly. A tiny photograph slid out of her pocket. She glanced around anxiously, bright blue eyes inspecting every corner of the room as though there might be hidden cameras hidden around. The picture was placed back into her pocket again.

Sighing, she opened the window and crawled out, her feet hanging off the ledge she was sitting on. No, she did not want this anymore. She could not take this anymore. Maybe she could pack her bags and leave now, finding a job, sleeping in a shelter, bunking with all the other homeless guys on the street.

It sounded a whole lot better than what she was going through now. Anything would.

Making up her mind, she leaned back as far as she could, grab whatever clothes and money she could reach. Then taking a deep breath, she jumped. Right into the fog.

The house was silent once more.

* * *

 **I'm a horrible person and I just have to procrastinate. I WILL finish my other stories but I just had to do this. Sorry.**

 **please review!**

 **-tomatohunter**


	2. Chapter 1

**Percy Jackson is not my doing. A great man named Rick Riordan owns it.**

Sometimes, I look up at the stars and wonder why people wish upon them. They're cold, unreachable. Since I was a kid, I had always been wishing upon them. But none of them came true. My dad never came back, my sister was hardly smiling, my mom's health deteriorated. I stopped trusting in them. I stopped hoping that I would be like every kid in school with two cool parents and a nice house to stay in. My sister and I have been taking care of ourselves since I was twelve. _Five whole years_. And id am proud to say that we are still alive.

I haven't spoken in so long I forgot why I didn't, or how to do so in the first place. People keep their distance from me. I don't mind that. It's fine.

Stars are great big balls of fire that can burn you and kill you. If you can get there, that is. I think that we should wish on the little flower that sprung overnight on your porch. Or the cloud that looks like it's _actually_ cotton candy and not a bunch of water droplets who were too high to fall back to the ground. Or even the one leaf that fell from its branches the minute it grew. Stuff that are completely relatable yet unpredictable.

* * *

"Hi there! I'm Will. You?" a cheerful voice broke Nico's train of thought. Will had a large optimistic smile on his face, along with a splash of freckles. He was wearing a bright yellow shirt that went oddly well with his blond hair. It, however, contrasted with Nico's pale skin and dark clothing. He seemed much too cheerful for this school.

Bright smile? Check. Badge that says 'Goode is Good'? Check. Colourful clothing? Check. This guy was definitely new.

For some reason, Nico felt like trusting him. Which was strange because he rarely trusted anyone.

 _Nico_ he scrawled on a piece of paper.

A look of confusion flashed across his face. "Why'd-" then he cut himself off. His confused expression morphed into one of understanding. "Oh. You can't talk?"

Normally, when someone said it like that, Nico would step on the offender's foot and walk off. But it felt different when Will said it. Like he understood. A surge of courage ran through him.

 _Do you want to sit here? The seat's empty_ , he wrote. Will looked up in delight and surprise. "Really? Thanks!" he dumped his bag on the seat and sat down. Nico wondered why the boy chose to sit down there in the first place—right under the teacher's nose. He was place in front because a) he was small and b) the teachers had this weird stereotype that students with disorders had to sit in front. The other boy next to him confirmed it. He was deaf, but could hear much better than most of the other people when he turned his hearing aids to the maximum volume. The kid played it in his favour, though, pretending he couldn't hear when the teacher called on him.

"So, who's the teacher?" Will asked, trying to start a conversation. As if on cue, a plump woman walked into the class. She was the exact definition of a teddy bear. The right shape, a head filled with cotton and no heart. He wasn't trying to be mean, really. But why would they let someone who couldn't differentiate left from right teach Math? Especially to those people who wanted a proper education like him.

"Hello children! I'm Mrs Dodds! I see we have a new student with us here today. Mr Solace, would you like to come up here? Children, please stand up and introduce yourself so he would know who you are. Starting from the back, please."

Nico's eyebrows creased slightly. _Since when do teachers make us do this? Shouldn't it be the new kid doing it?_ Reluctantly, the students stood up and introduced themselves.

Jason, Harley, Luke, Piper.

The names blended together. How was it possible to remember _all_ their names? Poor Will was standing in front of the class looking extremely lost.

Leo, Nyssa, Percy… _him._

His eyes widened and Mrs Dodds smirked. _Oh,_ he thought. _So that's why she wanted to do that. To humiliate me even more. This lady should_ seriously _consult Miss Iris._ But Will shot him an encouraging smile. Hesitating slightly, he held up a paper with his name written on it in capital letters. Her ugly smile turned into an even uglier frown, but she said nothing and gestured for Will to go back. He walked back to his seat and whispered, "You did great."

Nico smiled for the first time that day.

The small movement caught his eye. It wasn't much, just the sudden change of lighting, the thick book placed in front of him and the cheerful and familiar "hi!". Nico tore his eyes away from his _very interesting_ sandwich and looked up. Will Solace was standing in front of him wearing an even bigger smile, if it was even possible to.

"Look what I found in the library," he said excitedly. Long, slender fingers picked up the book and glossy black eyes skimmed across the title.

 _A COMPLETE GUIDE TO SIGN LANGUAGE_

 _BY JOHN DADDARIO_

"Now you don't have to write everything down when we speak."

Thoughts raced across his mind faster than any bullet train. _What does he mean he'll learn it? Does that mean that he wants to continue talking to me? Is he going to be my_ friend _? What am I supposed to say?_

Without thinking, Nico pushed his sandwich away, got up and dragged Will along with him. He was going to teach Will Solace how to sign.

 _Do you understand what I'm saying?_ Nico signed.

Will grinned. "Totally. This is epic. I swear you've taught me more than any other teacher could." Then his expression turned serious. "Um, just out of curiosity, is um being mute like an inborn thing or something?" then his face went red and he continued on hurriedly. "That was insensitive, I'm sorry. You don't have to answer." Will silently cursed himself for being such a tactless friend.

Nico raised his eyebrows and shrugged, not in the least bit looking like he cared.

Letting out a long sigh, he looked up and said, "We're done for the day right?" Nico nodded, stood up and left the room. Will watched in silence as his footsteps receded down the hallway.

Unbeknownst to Will, Nico was standing behind the wall across the room, watching his every movement. Nico found him intriguing, curious. He was the only guy that was nice to him, while everyone ignored him. It was a pleasant change, but he doubted that it would be like any of the other friends he made. Something in Will's smile made him trust the blond boy.

* * *

The sun is so near, but yet so unreachable. We will never understand it. I think that we should wish on the sun instead. It is so much more beautiful than stars could ever get.

 **There, done. It sounds a bit choppy but I'm working on it. I'm throwing in some Solangelo cause I ship it :) Nothing too major though.  
** **Please review and tell me what you think!**

 **Yours in demigoddishness and all that,  
Peace out**

 **-tomatohunter**


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